


i just wanna talk to you

by Anonymous



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Model Minghao, Obliviousness, Skater Vernon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:21:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22683898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: His plan is flawless, faultless. He pretends to care less and less until Minghao is back to sitting beside him in class without moving his head not even one time towards Vernon’s side. They are simple seatmates who now—don’t talk.
Relationships: Chwe Hansol | Vernon/Xu Ming Hao | The8
Comments: 4
Kudos: 87
Collections: Anonymous





	i just wanna talk to you

**Author's Note:**

> this is a commission for @seothighs on twitter!! i truly hope you enjoy this, and from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Vernon should've seen it come sooner.

Really, such a fastidious and squeamish person disrupting his aura and fucking up his vibes is one of his biggest petpeeves. 

Yet, Xu Minghao sits beside him during class one day, head looking straight into the teacher’s eyes (maybe he's breaking into her soul, who knows what Minghao is at this point). He doesn't budge, at all, no matter how much Vernon stares at him.

So it starts.

-

Beginnings are always hard to explain.

Watching Minghao walk into the school like a model every day for the past year had always been a time-stopping situation, but he never made much of it. It's not much. It's insignificant.

Such a person can't mess with his vibes.

So the one hundred thirty-third time it happens, as if a loop, Vernon simply gets on his skateboard and rushes towards the door. There’s Mingyu at the entrance, looking as fun as ever, with a tad of coldness and elegance. Kim Mingyu is waiting, as far as Vernon is aware, so he skates pass him, pass the ordinary students and the teacher that warns him about certain objects in school property.

Vernon doesn’t know if it’s about his glasses, his beanie, or his method of transportation. 

The school is big, and big is too small to describe it. There are buildings for almost every department, and the possibility of finding someone who doesn’t share one with you is a bit unfeasible. But—a single shared class is enough for Vernon to bump into Mingho again.

This time, in the corridor.

“Oh,” he exclaims, his beanie moves a bit from the impact, but he’s more impacted by the one and only Xu Minghao up close. “Sorry”

Minghao smiles.

“Don’t worry,” reassuring him, with a hand tentatively moving to probably pat his back, Minghao then says, “I like your hat.” 

He likes his dirty hat as he’s wearing a  _ Gucci  _ coat and big-brands accessories. Picky, fastidious, yet shy and nice. God, Vernon is slowly regretting every devil thought he’s had only because of his cold-looking appearance. 

Maybe he’s the one at fault. 

-

  
  


“Can I borrow a pen?”

Vernon fell asleep. He definitely fell asleep in class and there’s a small pool of drool on his sweater, he notices, as his eyes peel open and stare at Minghao’s flawless face. 

It’s obvious he’s a model. Sometimes Vernon wishes he looked like Mingyu or Junhui, who have the school around their fingers and walk constantly on a red carpet. Sometimes he wishes he didn’t judge people too much based on their aspect.

“Sorry, what?” He mumbles. Shame and embarrassment wash over him, like a splash of water on his face, and there’s no plausible way to hide it even if Vernon tried.

“I asked for a pen,” Minghao says, a bit sheepishly, and Vernon doesn’t understand, 

“Oh, right, yeah—” he opens his stained pencil case and gives Minghao the less bitten one. Minghao appears happy with his choice.

“Don’t worry about the class, no one saw,” he then tell him, back to staring idly at the board as if he’s paying attention, “and I took some notes I can share with you.”

It’s like a punch in the stomach, the moment Vernon wants to smile widely and  _ hug  _ Xu Minghao. It’s completely out of character—yet again, the Minghao built inside his head supposedly doesn’t exist. It’s just an idea.

Like the idea that maybe he doesn’t mind Minghao sitting beside him while he drools. It’s planted on his brain, now. 

-

Wen Junhui is a whole other world.

He’s a funny, charismatic one from the fashion department. Not as outgoing as Mingyu, but Junhui finds his way around to be a fun person, although he can look serious and introverted, he’s truly a fan of dumb, baseless jokes and making others feel good. 

“Hao, you’re already dating?” Vernon overhears. He wishes he didn’t. 

“What?” he hears Minghao exclaim, “what are you talking about?”

Vernon really shouldn’t be listening. 

“I mean… You’re always with him now,” Junhui reasons, “he’s from the music department. I mean…”

“You mean… we share one class and he’s good at it? I need to pass this class or else my parents will kill me.” 

Junhui giggles, punches Minghao’s shoulder, and Vernon freezes entirely for a complete second. He’s the joke, he’s the laughter, he’s the one who trusted too easily.

  
-   
  
Now it truly starts.

Now it has a beginning, the moment Vernon felt the most used and useless at the same time. 

Every single time Minghao walks into the school, Vernon is already inside waiting for class to start. When he does find a seat beside him (because Vernon makes sure to convince  _ anyone  _ in the class to occupy that place), the hidden gazes and slight touches are ignored successfully by Vernon. They are not friends, they are merely classmates.

And Vernon goes along with his plan. 

“Are you ignoring me?”

“Huh?”

“Are you ignoring me or something?”

“Huh?”

There’s nothing to ignore. Minghao’s cool and admirable presence is no longer an issue to him, and his brain is attempting hard to process that fact fruitfully. And still, watching as Minghao frowns hurts a deep part of his heart.

“I just had a feel I was being  _ ignored _ .”

Vernon shakes his head although it looks fake. “Not at all, I’m just too busy, uh, skating, and I have a competition.”

“Really?” Minghao asks. His voice goes a tad higher. 

“Yeah, sorry if I’m not a good seatmate.”

They both stare at the teacher talking nonsense while their thighs accidentally touch and Vernon wants to scream at Minghao to go away and never have disrupted his perfect, peaceful life. 

-

Skating is a relaxing activity, as weird as it might sound.

It’s an adrenaline machine, of course, but Vernon feels at ease on his skateboard, and the skate park becomes a safe place once he becomes accustomed to it and its design. It soothes him, makes him forget. 

So he goes there almost every day now, also in fear of being judged in school for skating too much on the long stair at the back. 

Vernon manages to do a flip trick successfully before a voice is interrupting him.

“Hey!”

It’s Minghao. (He hates how his heart beats wildly and it’s not provoked by adrenaline). 

“Oh, hey,” he greets him from afar, down in the skating area. 

“You looked cool doing that, now I get it.”

There are many words Vernon has been called in his life by many diverse people but  _ Minghao  _ calling  _ him  _ cool is on another level. Because Minghao is the epitome of cool, with his long coats and turtlenecks, and sometimes chains hanging by his jeans while he blinds everyone with a fluorescent shirt. It’s in the details, he knows, and it’s so hard to  _ ignore _ . 

But Vernon sticks to his plan.

“Thanks, I’m practicing,” he starts, “got a lot to do.”

“Yeah?” Minghao asks, raising an eyebrow, “I’ll leave you alone.”

“You can, uh, watch but like—I’m gonna be very focused so…”

Minghao smiles and nods, waving at him and instantly fading away. Disappointment sets low in his stomach, or at least that’s what Vernon thinks it is. 

-

His plan is flawless, faultless. He pretends to care less and less until Minghao is back to sitting beside him in class without moving his head not even one time towards Vernon’s side. They are simple seatmates who now—don’t talk.

It’s sad, honestly. 

But he works around it so well it surprises him when Minghao doesn’t even look at his notebook anymore. Perfect plan. 

Introduce Kim Mingyu and it’s futile. 

“Hey, skater boy,” Mingyu calls. He  _ knows  _ his name, or at least Vernon thinks so.”We need to talk.”

“Us?”

“Yes.” He steps forward, making their height difference more than obvious. It’s menacing, almost. “Come with me.”

They walk together out of the school in silence, the backyard is seemingly empty, so they sit on one of the benches that Vernon recalls skating on too. 

“Listen…” he begins, pauses, and stares at Vernon’s face. “You’re so dumb.”

“What?”

“You made Minghao feel bad! He feels bad because he thinks he’s bothering you! Xu Minghao!” Mingyu exclaims, arms flying. Vernon almost laughs. Yet, he remains serious as he doesn’t understand  _ anything  _ he’s being accused of now. “He’s a scorpio! He never feels bad about this kind of stuff.”

“What? What kind of stuff? What are you—”

“He obviously wanted to be closer to you, for whatever reason, and he kept talking about how funny and smart you are,” Mingyu tells him. It feels as if he’s living in another reality, an alternative universe. 

“What? I thought he just wanted good grades.”

“Kid, you’re—God,” as his hand is placed on his face in clear frustration, Vernon stays silent, fixing his beanie. “How did you even come to that conclusion?”

“I accidentally overheard a conversation…”

“Accidentally?”

“Yes, for real, I was on my way to another class and saw him and Junhui and—”

“ _ Junhui _ .” 

“Yes,” he nods.

“He, God I can’t believe this,” Mingyu seems so frustrated Vernon thinks he might explode. “He’s the biggest  _ joke  _ in our group after Jungkook. Do  _ not  _ believe whatever bullshit he says.”

“But, I just heard Minghao said I’m good in class, and they were talking about him being, y’know, like, dating, and,” Vernon pauses, gulps, and continues, “I just feel used. You guys are too cool for me.”

“ _ Noooo waaaaayyy _ ”, he cries out, “first of all, Minghao hasn’t dated anyone in like, two years, and that person was  _ me _ . And second of all, he’s already  _ perfect  _ at that class, ok?”

“I—”

“Just connect the dots,” Mingyu tells him before getting up and leaving. It feels like a bad drama. “Also, you’re cool. I wish I could skate.”

Vernon smiles.

(He needs a new plan).

-

It starts again. He’s lost count already of the many beginnings, but maybe it’s gradual and there isn’t one in specific. Maybe it’s all about him and his actions. 

Maybe he should’ve seen it come sooner, at least.

“I’m sorry,” Vernon whispers. The teacher continues talking normally. “I was, indeed, ignoring you.”

“I noticed.”

“I’m sorry.”

Minghao gazes at him swiftly. “It’s okay. I just don’t get it. I think this is a misunderstanding.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t get the hint you were interested—”

“—Sorry I interrupted your free time at the skatepark.”

They both stare at each other, frowning, red like a dazzling rose. 

“What?”

The teacher doesn’t remain unfazed this time, unluckily. “Xu Minghao! Chwe Vernon!”

“Sorry.”

“Sorry!”

They still both get kicked out of class. It’s not even worth saying sorry to each other again, they just lean together against the wall on the main hallway and sigh. 

“What did you mean?” Minghao asks. Vernon already forgot what he was going to say.

“If you thought I was cool or something which, like, sounds impossible, and wanted to be friends—I’m sorry I didn’t realize and thought you were only with me because of my good grades.”

Minghao’s laughter is something Vernon would like to listen more to, truly. “Because of your good grades? My grades are better, I don’t  _ even  _ mind.”

Now he frowns. “Hey!”

“I do want to be your friend… you’re cool, you know that?”

“I don’t, you’re way cooler, do you see the way you walk into school? Like you own the place.”

“I don’t, stop lying,” he mumbles, and Vernon notices the pink tone on his cheeks. It melts his heart, where it was hurt, and it heals, every wound there is. 

“You do! You look like a model on a runaway constantly, with sharp eyes and all that, like, tall and wearing expensive clothes. You’re a fashionista.”

Minghao’s cheeks darken as Vernon’s word spill from his mouth, but he still acts cool, and shakes his head as if it would hide it. 

“God,” he says, “Well, I am on the fashion department. If I was wearing a beanie right now you should be worried.”

“Fuck you!”

He then hits him on Minghao’s side, and feels full, almost elated. They both laugh. 

And never go back to the classroom. 

-

They become close.

Close enough to work on homework at Vernon’s place. His house is delicate and clean enough to not be ashamed, so he suggests staying at the living room with their books open and pens ready. It’s just unbearable. 

There’s his mom in the kitchen preparing snacks, Minghao in a loose white shirt and black skinny jeans with a  _ Gucci  _ belt, and the TV playing seemingly endless commercials that are driving Vernon insane. It feels as if he’s not there, and watching it all happen from the outside. Minghao talks to him, and he snaps out of it. 

“I don’t understand this part here,” he points at the highlighted paper, which becomes hieroglyphics once Vernon attempts to focus his eyes on it. As of now, there has been no direct contact from their bodies, but Vernon can sense the waves of heat from Minghao’s body, and once he leans closer, how their faces are inches apart.

(And Minghao has the prettiest eyelashes, which is a thought he  _ shouldn’t  _ allow).

“Oh, wait,” Vernon turns around, grabbing his backpack from the floor and rummaging through it. It serves as a cover for his reddened cheeks, at least. 

Right in that moment, his mom walks into the living room smiling widely, with snacks and drinks. In a way, Vernon is thankful he can take a break. 

“It’s so nice to have Hansol-ie bring a friend over, and such a handsome kid,” his mom starts. It’s impossible so hide his face now. “You’re so beautiful!”

“Thank you, ma’am, you’re so kind and nice,” Minghao smiles, but Vernon sees right through him, and they make eye contact for a brief moment. It pains him. 

In a moment of overwhelming panic (his mom continuing talking, sharing childhood memories, embarrassing stories about him falling of his skateboard and getting a cut so deep they had to rush to the hospital, getting stitches on his knee), Vernon opts to work with Plan B, which he didn’t think much through.

“Why don’t we go to our room?” Vernon asks Minghao, staring right into his eyes, and then looks up at his mother, “you can watch TV.”

“Okay,” Minghao is quick to gather his study stuff tidily, while Vernon hastily pushes his belonging inside his backpack and gets up.

“Let’s go.”

It wasn’t a brilliant idea. It wasn’t the perfect plan, clearly. 

Vernon is somewhat a nerd, but it’s not a defining aspect of him. Like his sunglasses and beanie, or his skateboarding passion, it’s just a hobby of him—being a nerd who loves aliens and  _ The X-Files _ . There are posters on his wall, DVDs on his desktop, and old video games cartridges piled up neatly on his bedside table. 

And then there’s Xu Minghao wearing a  _ Gucci _ belt scruitizing his room. 

“Let’s sit on the bed and, uh, continue with that thing you didn't get,” Vernon attempts to divert the attention. It works, only to get Minghao gazing at him.

“I love your room. It’s very…  _ you _ .”

“T-thanks.”

God, he just stuttered. Vernon stuttered in his nerd room while wearing glasses. 

“I’m not judging you! I love _ The X-Files _ ,” now, Vernon’s eyes go wide. 

“Seriously?”

“Yes, and I’m seeing you have the DVD collection… that’s interesting,” he looks at it and smiles devilishly at Vernon.

“I do…”

They both try to contain their laughter.

“Let’s watch it,” so Vernon is the one to say  _ fuck it _ , and Minghao looks so happy he might as well be glowing, finally sitting on the bed beside Vernon—a considerate distance between them.

“Yes, please.”

As the first episode loads, the silence that blankets them is heavy enough to be felt. Vernon, as least, feels a weight on his chest and thick air entering his lungs, unable to breathe well. Minghao’s face remains straight, like always. But he does move closer once it finally starts. 

Close enough to have Vernon  _ sweating _ .

“Isn’t it hot here?”

Minghao chuckles. “No, it’s  _ cold _ .”

That, he knows. He knows it’s winter, he’s aware he shouldn’t be hot all over so suddenly, he’s conscious of the dampness on his forehead (thankfully covered by his beanie). Yet, it’s all so hard to ignore when Minghao leans back on the pillows and their bodies touch from shoulder to their knees, entirely. 

It’s definitely hot in there. 

Once the third episode rolls in, Vernon is used to it. Although being extremely aware of Minghao’s body heat is still a thought that roams inside his head, he’s now focused on the plot of the series he’s seen a million times. 

(Perhaps Minghao is an alien. Maybe he’s out of this world).

Fifth episode, and the problem begins. (It truly starts, not like other beginnings). Minghao falls asleep, deeply, seemingly already dreaming, and his head falls inevitably on Vernon’s shoulder. It rests there, comfortably, and when Vernon dares to look down, he notices the pout on his lips and all of sudden wants to scream. They are pink, plump, and there’s a thought that’s bigger than being sweaty or the plot of  _ The X-Files _ —it’s planted on his brain now.

The thought of kissing Minghao will surely grow now. Vernon doesn’t want to ever face it. 

-

No apparent changes happen. 

After that realization, after that study session, and after Minghao almost slept for one hour and a half—there was only laughter and jokes about it.  _ The X-files  _ became their thing, and Vernon only wants to disappear.

Because he can’t stop thinking about it. That single seed, that single thought, not only grew into a plant, but a large tree that’s unavoidable. Its roots wrap around him and then Minghao is the only thing in his mind. How he fixes his hair and sometimes curls it, how he nods with his lips pressed together as if he’s a shy, innocent boy. How he’s competitive at times but is afraid of hurting others. 

Vernon realizes being able to describe him with more than a hundred words means something.

But admitting it is a long process. 

“Wanna come over today?” Minghao asks. Their seats arrangement stays the same, although now the difference is that they are both focused on each other instead of the teacher, and Vernon doesn’t even take notes anymore. 

“Yeah, we should definitely revise or we will fail this class and none of us will have good grades,” Vernon replies, not making eye contact but feeling the burn of Minghao’s eyes on his back as he places his books inside his backpack. 

“Fail? Never,” Minghao clicks his tongue, “but we’re watching  _ The X-files _ .”

“We’re not. We will fail.”

“Pretty please?”

Minghao makes the mistake of pouting; bringing back all the memories and thoughts of that day. Vernon rolls his eyes dramatically and sighs, ignoring his heart about to burst his chest open. 

It happens constantly, now. Vernon having to turn around and calm down as he feels his entire face flushing and heart beating erratically. That’s the Minghao effect, really. 

“Okay, dude, just stop acting cute,” he says. And God, he hates himself for having to call him that when he can’t even stop thinking about  _ kissing  _ him.

Though, Minghao, reacts negatively.

“Did you just call me dude?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s so straight of you, wow.”

Vernon dies a little inside. A lot. He dies and opens his eyes to a smirking Minghao who just stabbed him with the sharpest knife there is. And thankfully, most student left the room already. 

“I’m not straight,” Vernon mumbles.

“Well, me neither.”

It blankets them again, that tension. Now, it’s electric.    
  
-

  
Minghao’s house is what he would expected.

Elegant, but still homely. A sense of belonging. Its walls are a dirty white that reminds Vernon of the beach, of sand, of the sea, and he out of nowhere has the thought of vacationing with Minghao.

(Of sunburned backs and playing in the water). 

His room is no different, even more clean, tidy, and white as possible. He has a black cover for his bed that contrasts with the entire place, and it’s all so perfectly organized Vernon has to take a step back to appreciate it. 

Then, he notices the art pieces on the wall. 

“Those are nice,” Vernon points at them, inspecting them closer, “who’s this artist?”

Minghao giggles. “Me.”

“No way,” it’s unreasonable for Minghao to be so perfect at every single thing. To be pretty, to dress himself wisely and prettily, to draw and paint, to pass every class and—

“Yeah, I love art, I also dance. Contemporary.” 

Vernon needs a moment. He pretends to look around and faces away from Minghao. His red cheeks don’t go away, but at least now he feels capable of uttering senseful words. 

“Really? And you still chose fashion in school?” 

“Yeah, it’s still what I’m most passionate about at the moment, y’know?” Vernon knows. He’s passionate about a thousand of things, diverse and difficult.

Hearing Minghao talk about it after thinking of him as a picky and cold person is appeasing. 

“I know, I know.”

Of course, by now, Vernon is already trembling with the need of  _ doing  _ something, but Minghao is calmly connecting his computer to his TV so they can watch the rest of the episodes, and his bed is only meant for one person surprisingly, so he’s sitting at the edge mentally yelling at his knee to stop moving. 

It doesn’t stop. 

“You know, I always thought you were cool,” Minghao comments suddenly. The hairs at the back of his neck stand and he freezes. “But now that I got to know you… I think you’re amazing.”

Vernon remains quiet. It only spurs Minghao on.

“And also, you look prettier without that beanie on,” he continues, “not that I mind the beanie. But you do.”

“I, uh, t-thanks?” Truthfully, he’s not even ashamed of stuttering in a situation like this.

“Don’t thank me, dumbass.”

“I think you’re pretty too, but, I—”

“Vernon, you don’t have to compliment me back,” well, now it’s over. Minghao leaves his place to walk over to the bed and sit by his side. “I know what you think of me. Before and now. And if you’re not gonna say it then it might as well be me—I like you.”

It’s not over, apparently. It’s just starting. And Vernon feels like he’s floating, a sunset on the background, and a beach under him.

“What the fuck?”

Except he ruins it. Minghao bites his lip nervously.

“I, fuck, what? I like you too? How is it possible for you to like me?” He starts rambling. Maybe Minghao punching him in the face right now could be nice. 

“It is, shut up.”

“I can’t shut up! I’ve been thinking about kissing you for weeks!”

It’s Minghao whose eyes turn into plates then, and blushes profoundly as his eyes naturally shift to Vernon’s lips. 

“Really?

“Really.”

“Can you not think about it? Bring it to reality?”

His mouth drops. Minghao giggles and moves closer. Vernon dies. (Again, this is the third time maybe). 

“I—”

Minghao is pressing his velvety lips against his mouth. Now, now it’s not the time to panic. It’s not the moment to stay still. It’s Vernon who moves, and slightly opens his mouth so their lips slot together. They fit, like a puzzle, and although Vernon doesn’t have much experience on this field, he realizes Minghao leads him unconsciously. Some sort of explosion occurs inside Vernon’s stomach. Not fireworks or fire, it’s just the mix of emotions he’s been keeping inside up until now. Until Minghao places his hand on his neck, up until a thumb caresses his scarlet cheek. They both move in sync, almost, as if both wished for the same thing all this time. And that single thought makes Vernon smile into the kiss (it doesn’t break, Minghao doesn’t allow it to, he pushes forward and presses their lips together further). Then Minghao smiles back and Vernon realizes what it is. 

It’s the start of a beginning. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [ if you want to commission me here's the info! ](https://twitter.com/ten__wv/status/1227424252330115073?s=21)


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